Sleeping in the back of her father’s truck in the college parking lot was not how she expected things to go. Let alone with classes failing and impossible expectations thrusted upon her shoulders. A few moments of shut eye in a parking lot is perhaps not the biggest loss.
The ratty carpet of the folded over backseat itched at her. The wool blanket did not help either. She pulled out her phone, checking the time. Her head rested against a bundle of jackets and clothing. Pushing herself up, she started tying her hair into a ponytail to keep it out of her face. The first class was in thirty minutes across campus. At least she’s going to be on time.
A stubborn strand of hair kept falling into her face. Determined to blind her. Shuffling through her school bag, she plucked her wool toque on and stuffed the rebel hair away. It was a cute toque, with that maple leaf seen in and delightfully warm and covered her ears.
A cramped back and shoulder are a decent trade off in that case. She reasoned. Slumping out of her Dad’s crummy old chevy blazer, she tucked at the edge of her hoodie and scarf. The cold spring air piercing her ears and cheeks like pine needles. Parking for the college was full during the day. With the rows upon rows of vehicles. It was near impossible to find a spot. Unless of course, you arrived early at three in the morning. When even the sun hasn’t even broken dawn yet. That was what most of them could only do to even barely qualify as being early for classes. Barely.
The city college was unimpressive. Five main buildings large enough to house the numerous students that flood during the day. All of the grouchy and underfed without something glazed and cappuccino from the quaint but overpriced college coffee shop.
The glass doors to the main atrium of the technology building opened for her. The large wooden dome that always reminded her of an apple with the top and bottom sliced cleanly off. Glass windows lining the sides where snobbish business students would galavant to for meetings. She made the mistake of going to one of those and was fortunate enough to have been never contacted by them again. They gave her odd looks and comments anyways. Especially with her hair being so long.
First class room on the left, third floor. Across from the computer room. She stepped into the elevator, clicking the button for the third floor. As the doors almost closed when he showed up. He barged in just before the door shut. “Hey! Sorry Sorry Sorry” he muttered. Shuffling in, he stood at the otherside of the elevator as it began to go up. He was kinda cute. Clean shave with a light shadow starting to creep in with a neatly cropped buzz cut of hair that reminded her of the earthy oaks back in her suburban wasteland of a neighborhood. She averted her gaze; suddenly becoming very interested in the grainy texture of the floor.
Yawning, the man stuffed hands into his jacket. Content to just watch the little digital display tick further upwards. He wasn’t really paying her any attention. The door opened and he walked out, leaving her to continue staring at the floor in silence. She didn’t move for a while before finally stepping off the elevator. The door quietly slid shut behind her.
Only another student was there for their literature class. A lanky young man with a green hoodie and blue jeans. His eyes emerald and ruffled brown hair. His nose almost against the glow of his cell phone and earbuds stuffed a little deeply. She could hear the little squeak and beeps of music escaping from them as well.
Sighing, she looked over to the classroom door and the hastily written note saying the teacher will be back later. Even the ink on the paper still looked fresh and sticky from a big red marker pen. She tried opening the door and to no surprise, it was locked. The key was even still clicked into place. She rattled the key absently before twisting it; the door making a satisfying clunk before swaying open.
Slipping into the class room and sitting down at her desk, she barely felt herself collapsing on the desk in boredom. Minutes passed before the rest of the class showed up and sat down. Murmuring and gossiping while she rested with her face planted on the desk undeterred. Another day of college and wondering what the point of it all was. For a future undetermined as of yet.
“You’d figure it out” her parents would say with noses up against their phones. Snapping selfies of themselves and gawking at their social media threads. It was conspiracy theories last week, now it was cat videos. She felt empty just being around them. The essence of her joy and will being sapped by her parents as they paraded her around as their golden miracle child. (She wasn’t. She just wished to be a normal woman.)
“Hey” She looked over to her side to see the young man with the green hoodie sitting at the desk next to her. He had one earbud still blasting out music as he woke her up. “You look tired man, did you have another late night?”
“Uh…yeah.” She groaned leaning her head back onto the table. A migraine still hitting her like a blown back storm. She’ll remember his name. Eventually.
The teacher finally walked in. Swaggering into the classroom with dollar store bravado and wearing a blue suit and red bow tie. His hair was short trimmed and greased back. A cheap million dollar smile spread across his face. “Good Morning Class!” Strolling past the students and lounging onto his comfy spinning chair and turning to face the class. “How is everyone doing this fine morning?”
The class all murmured in unison a collective “good” or “I’m doing alright”; generally positive.
She lifted her head up from her desk and mimed the others. “I’m okay” She was okay supposedly. Glumly pulling out her homework, she flipped to the page where she was working on this week’s math. She should have been able to do this. Why hasn’t this basic fundamental skill failed to stick. Already half the class have their cellphones out. One was playing videos on their switch they brought from home. She couldn’t focus. There was too much happening. The numbers on the pages of her homework refused to click inside her head as the classroom fell into more and more disorderly distraction.
When class had finished, she had gotten nothing done. Just a binder filled with sketchy doodles and half finished algebra.
Her phone vibrated with an incoming text. The bell chimes of wind pipes alerting her. She struggled to pull her phone out of her pocket; the phone cover getting caught and tattered from the repeated mishandling over the years. She opened incoming text with a swipe of her thumb.
Want to hang out? – The sender, of course, was her friend. Sammy.
Nick is thinking of going pun crawling tonight.
*pub
She wasn’t that much of a fan of pubs. Or drinking. Couldn’t we just hang out online? She asked. I think it’s just Nick and Alex who are into that. She also omitted the occasion when she had went out with Alex and he had made comments that made her rather cringe and share concerned awkward glances with everyone else.
Your weird – why can’t you be like everyone else you goof? 😉
I’ll be online tonight
A smile crept across her lips. Warframe? She texted.
Sure, We’ll do that Warframe pet thing
She texted back. Awesome! Kavats here we come!
Space ninjas and Killer Kitty Cats 😸
“Mr.Colterson!” She winced, hearing Colterson being called out always made her itch in all the wrong ways. Like a scratchy wool sweater that couldn’t even stop a light breeze. By the voice It was her computer science teacher.
She drudged the words out as best she could. “Mr.Desterhan?” She turned up from her phone and looked up at the jolly old man with a scraggly beard and wide brim cowboy hat. His belly a little more round due to his peckish habit for bringing chocolates into class to loudly munch down on. “Wha-what seems to be the problem?” She asked wearily.
“Colter…” Mr.Desterhan rubbed the bridge of his nose. His nostrils bellowing and whiskering his long droopy mustache. “You have your assignment done? Right?”
That assignment, shit. She felt a knot twist in her stomach. “That was today wasn’t it?
Pretty Twisted Mirrors 